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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135382">A Most Wanted Man</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSharon/pseuds/AppleSharon'>AppleSharon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Our Kind of Traitor (Reeve Tuesti) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A bit of angst I guess?, Friends to Lovers, M/M, eventually</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:26:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,493</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSharon/pseuds/AppleSharon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I am trapped on the sixty-third floor of a very tall tower. One that’s rather of my own design.” The man giggled loudly at his own statement. “Maybe I could use a rescue myself.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Vincent filed away this information as well. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Who are you?” Vincent asked again.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A desperate noise echoed from Cait Sith, half laugh, half sob.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I’m no one. Ab-so-lute-ly no one.”</i>
</p><p>Shortly after joining Cloud Strife and his travelling party, Vincent Valentine finds solace from his guilt while making an unlikely friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reeve Tuesti &amp; Vincent Valentine, Reeve Tuesti/Vincent Valentine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Our Kind of Traitor (Reeve Tuesti) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>171</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Mt Nibel, Wutai Area, Woodlands Area</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story now has a definitive sequel where they actually meet in person! <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24868417/chapters/60164689">The Spy Who Came In From the Cold</a></p><p>This is another potential sketch/study for the giant Reeve Tuesti backstory fic I'm writing: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610745/chapters/56660224">Tinker, Planner, Soldier, Spy</a>. </p><p>The first one involved young executive Reeve meeting Aerith when she was a child living in the Shinra tower: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006889">The Night Manager</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While drifting in and out of sleep, Vincent thought about his new body. A few of his hypotheses had already been tested in practice in the short amount of time he had travelled with Cloud Strife and company. </p><p>One of them was that he couldn’t feel the chill in the air. He somehow knew it was there — Mt. Nibel was cold even in the spring and summer months and it was currently winter — but couldn’t feel it. Observing the other members of his party, he wasn’t the only one. While the rest shivered in silence — or in the case of Yuffie, while complaining loudly — Cloud didn’t seem affected at all. </p><p>He was from this area, and presumably used to the cold, but it didn’t sit right with Vincent. Something was off about Cloud, even if the answer was simply that Professor Hojo had followed through on his experiments to create Jenova-enhanced super soldiers for the Shinra military.</p><p>Thinking of Hojo made his blood boil, the monsters pressing up against his mind, waiting to be released.</p><p>Cloud was an odd one. Vincent suspected that he had been a part of one of Hojo’s horrific experiments, but couldn’t tell if Cloud would have been considered a failure by Hojo’s team or a success. Cloud did appear to have superhuman strength and an uncanny ability to channel magic through materia with ease. </p><p>Vincent supposed that he too, a creature with shapeshifting abilities and certainly no longer human, would be considered a success. As would Lucrecia’s wayward child whom he had now sworn to stop. </p><p>He choked back a laugh. It came out as a dry, wheezing cough in the crisp night air. </p><p>Despite his thirty-year slumber, Vincent didn’t require sleep, and hadn’t been sleeping properly since he had left Hojo’s Nibelheim laboratory. When the forced camaraderie of the group — which had grown more tense as they had made their way across Mt. Nibel — became too much, Vincent set out away from the group and stared at the stars. Mt. Nibel was perpetually gloomy and foreboding, its peaks never having been worn down naturally by ancient movements of the Great Glacier. </p><p>Vincent didn’t know where he was going. He had passed a natural mako fountain a short while ago and had emerged on the other side of a smaller peak, looking out over the Nibel mountain range.</p><p>Unfortunately, another member of their party was already here, humming to himself. </p><p>Cait Sith was the oddest member of the group. Vincent really didn’t know what to make of him other than the fact that only someone from Shinra or the Shinra Company itself would have the means to create a robot or automated puppet like Cait Sith. Vincent didn’t trust the toy cat or his cheery demeanour. </p><p>He sighed and hoped his presence would somehow send a message that the cat should head back to camp without him. Vincent glared at the back of the cat’s head, as if that would somehow will the robot to move. </p><p>“A rare, clear night on Mt. Nibel. You couldn’t ask for a more beautiful thing.”</p><p>Vincent looked over at the toy cat. It had gone completely still, eyes staring off into the distance and its mouth wide open. A man’s voice was coming from Cait Sith, but it wasn’t the lilting high-pitched voice of the robot itself. Instead it was low and wistful.</p><p>“Who are you?” Vincent asked. </p><p>“Honestly,” the voice began, stumbling lightly over the word. “Someone of little consequence.”</p><p>The man laughed. It was a bitter sound with an underlying warmth that Vincent didn’t associate with any Shinra personnel. </p><p>“I suppose you could call me Cait Sith’s creator.”</p><p>“Someone of little consequence in Shinra wouldn’t have been assigned to spy on the group,” Vincent said. </p><p>Another bitter laugh came from Cait Sith’s still body. It looked like a statue, poised and rigid on top of the giant mog it rode. </p><p>“You would have guessed that.”</p><p>Vincent filed the man’s affirmation of being a spy in his mind for later, like most observations he made — like he had been trained to do as an esteemed member of Shinra’s Department of Administrative Research. </p><p>“A Turk then?” Vincent guessed.</p><p>“Y’know.” The man continued as if he hadn’t heard Vincent’s accusation at all. His words slurred together a bit. The man had probably been drinking. “This is the most I’ve heard you talk since we rescued you from the laboratory in Nibelheim.”</p><p>“Rescued me?”</p><p>Vincent heard a shuffling sound. </p><p>“Ah, sorry,” the voice said. “You can’t see me shrug, of course.”</p><p>Cait Sith then moved, shrugging his shoulders. It was a jerkier motion than Vincent was used to from the toy, and more of a reminder that Cait Sith was a robot than the cat’s everyday movement while travelling with the group. Usually he moved like a cat.</p><p>“If not a rescue, then what else would you call it?”</p><p>The man laughed again. This time the sound was more warmth and less bitterness. </p><p>“Would you have slept there forever, Vincent?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“It was Hojo’s fault, not yours.” The voice was soft. </p><p>It made Vincent’s heart ache. </p><p>It made him furious. </p><p>“How would you know?” Vincent snapped.</p><p>“Knowing was—“ the man hiccoughed and swallowed loudly. “Is. Is. Knowing is a part of my job, after all.”</p><p>“And that job is?”</p><p>“I am trapped on the sixty-third floor of a very tall tower. One that’s rather of my own design.” The man giggled loudly at his own statement. “Maybe I could use a rescue myself.”</p><p>Vincent filed away this information as well. </p><p>“Who are you?” Vincent asked again.</p><p>A desperate noise echoed from Cait Sith, half laugh, half sob.</p><p>“I’m no one. Ab-so-lute-ly no one.”</p><p>Cait Sith abruptly shook himself — more like a dog than a cat, Vincent thought to himself — and looked up at Vincent. </p><p>“Ah, so sorry about that! Must’ve dozed off there for a wee bit.”</p><p>The man’s voice was gone.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Who are you?” Vincent immediately asked the next night he found the robot cat alone and staring into the night sky.<p>He was met with a warm chuckle from the mouth of Cait Sith. </p><p>“A coward,” the man said. His answer hung in the damp chill of the fog drifting out over the sea. </p><p>“Right now, I’m simply a Shinra executive who has once again had a bit too much to drink and is hiding from his administrative assistant in his office.” The man paused. “I can still say administrative and I’m talking with you again, so it’s not too awful all things considered.” </p><p>“My apologies for the manner in which our last conversation ended,” the man continued. “The entire exchange was untoward of me. It won’t happen again. If you would like me to leave, I’ll allow Cait Sith to take over.”</p><p>Vincent shrugged and tried a different tactic. </p><p>“You speak very formally.”</p><p>The man hummed in response. It was a pleasant sound. Like his laugh, it was warm and inviting. </p><p>“I had an accent when I was a child,” the man admitted. “Sounded exactly like Cait Sith is programmed to speak, to be honest.”</p><p>“Why did you change it?” Vincent asked. </p><p>“My ma told me to.” The man’s voice was wistful and distant. “She always told me to speak properly… or else!” </p><p>There was a slight clinking sound, as if the man had hit something gently, or perhaps placed a drink down on a table or desk. He had said that he was still in his office. </p><p>Thunder sounded in the distance — a Bolt 3 spell from one of the local birds that they had spent the previous day training against and fighting. </p><p>“Those birds are awful,” the man said. </p><p>Vincent nodded. They had exhausted themselves healing while training earlier. It hadn’t helped that Yuffie and Cid, their newest party member, had both seemed on edge and distracted. Distractions in the field led to unnecessary deaths. </p><p>“I’ll try to make a few adjustments to Cait Sith remotely. I dunno how long they’ll take. If they take.”</p><p>The man’s voice took on a soft lilt. He had a pleasant accent that fell somewhere between his formal speaking voice and the high-pitched whine of Cait Sith. </p><p>Vincent hummed. He sat there with Cait Sith’s still body, looking out at the sea. </p><p>After a few hours of silence, Vincent heard a whispered “Thank you” before Cait Sith whirred to life and bounced back to their campsite on his mog.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Aren’t you going to ask who I am?”<p>The man was upbeat this evening and completely sober, unlike the last two times Vincent had heard his voice. </p><p>“I’ll learn eventually.”</p><p>The man hummed. He sounded more delighted at the prospect than worried. Perhaps he wanted to be caught.</p><p>“You wouldn’t have hurt Barrett’s daughter.” </p><p>Vincent wasn’t asking the man this, he was fully-convinced that whoever was behind the cat, they wouldn’t have been able to kill an innocent girl. He had been waiting a few nights to confront Cait Sith’s creator about this after the scene at the Golden Saucer. </p><p>“How do you know that, Vincent Valentine?” the man asked softly. His voice shook. “What if I had been ordered to kill her?”</p><p>“You wouldn’t have done it.”</p><p>For Vincent, it was as simple as that. </p><p>“I’ve killed over fifty-thousand people in my lifetime,” the man said. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”</p><p>Vincent looked up and stared directly into Cait Sith’s closed eyes. They were often closed, and Vincent momentarily wondered how the man saw through the cat if its eyes weren’t open camera lenses. </p><p>Fifty-thousand people didn’t seem like an accurate number and this man didn’t seem like a murderer. Cait Sith wasn’t even a particularly strong weapon. Its only purpose that Vincent could glean was espionage, not the front lines. The toy cat’s attacks backfired half of the time. None of the information Vincent had filed away in his mind under Cait Sith’s mysterious creator matched with the intentional murder of tens of thousands of people. Vincent didn’t even know how that would have been possible.</p><p>“You said you were on the sixty-third floor of the Shinra tower. You said you needed to be rescued.”</p><p>The man laughed. “I was rather drunk. And I don’t recall revealing my location specifically.”</p><p>A dry chuckle bubbled up from Vincent. For once, his laugh didn’t sound like a hacking, stunted cough, but something more genuine. </p><p>“Vincent, did you... laugh?”</p><p>Vincent shook his head, surprised to find that he was still smiling. </p><p>“I don’t deserve a rescue,” the man said sadly. “I allowed the president to drop an entire plate on a section of Midgar.”</p><p>Vincent said nothing, waiting for the man to elaborate. After a while, the man sighed. Vincent looked up at the dense rainforest canopy of the woodlands. He could hear the man’s sighs over the noise of insects and the occasional animal crashing through the brush. </p><p>“If I had only seen through their greed much earlier in life,” the man said. “But I didn’t because I too was greedy and prideful.”</p><p>“But you didn’t drop a plate on those people.”</p><p>“I may as well have.”</p><p>“That’s not how it works. You’re placing guilt on yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”</p><p>“Just as you are with Hojo’s relationship with Lucrecia Crescent?”</p><p>Vincent went silent again. The two situations sounded completely different. Vincent could have stopped Hojo if he’d only been faster. He could have saved Lucrecia.</p><p>“I looked up who you were as soon as Cloud decided that he wanted you to join us,” the man admitted. “It’s not technically under my purview, but I do know who you are. I am able to have access to most of Shinra’s secrets courtesy of our database, and my own computer skills.”</p><p>“You don’t have to talk like that,” Vincent interrupted. “Formally.”</p><p>The man stopped talking and then burst out laughing. “Is this part of your plan to discover who I am?”</p><p>Truthfully, Vincent hadn’t been thinking about it that way. He simply enjoyed the man’s true speaking voice. It was oddly soothing. </p><p>“You got me,” Vincent said with another dry laugh. </p><p>“When all of this is over, I’ll buy you a drink,” the man said. “We can talk about what is or isn’t our fault in life.”</p><p>Vincent laughed. He couldn’t remember another night in over thirty years where he had laughed so much. </p><p>“I’ll hold you to that,” Vincent said. </p><p>And despite his preference for solitude, Vincent found that he meant it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm unsure as to whether it will actually end up in that story or just kind of hang as a standalone. I may add to this in the future because I like the idea of Vincent and Reeve finding solace from their guilt by talking to each other.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Sleeping Forest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>“There’s something relaxing about this place,” the man said after a long pause. “It’s dangerous.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Vincent hummed in agreement. The forest was beautiful and it thrummed with life. He could feel it resonate with the beasts inside of him despite the forest’s frozen appearance. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“If I were there,” the man started. He paused, and after clearing his throat loudly, continued. “I think I would be drawn into the forest. They say that it lures people in and puts them to sleep forever.”</i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I'm just going to update this with random snapshots of them chatting through their journey whenever the mood strikes me because I just really love writing this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Who are you?” Vincent asked. </p><p>He knew the man wouldn’t tell him, but it was almost a tradition at this point. </p><p>It was their ritual. </p><p>Vincent found comfort in repetition. It was familiar. He hadn’t made many choices in life, and the ones he had made had all been ill-advised, wrong, and hurtful to others. To choose something like this, even a simple conversation, was more refreshing than he cared to admit aloud. </p><p>He certainly wasn’t going to admit it now. </p><p>The man too was becoming oddly familiar and Vincent found himself looking forward to the times when he found the toy cat staring off into the distance, mouth open, facing the stars. It was a comfort.</p><p>This time he found him facing the Sleeping Forest. </p><p>“I can hear them digging,” the man said without answering his question. He waited for Vincent to fully approach the still robot. “It’s different than in the city. I daresay it’s more relaxing.”</p><p>His voice had returned to a practiced formality, leaving Vincent searching for that hint of warmth beneath it, when the man’s native accent bled into his corporate mask. </p><p>“It’s cold,” Vincent said. </p><p>“I thought you couldn’t feel the cold,” the man replied. His voice carried a hint of amusement. </p><p>“Did I say that?”</p><p>“No, you didn’t have to.”</p><p>The man laughed and suddenly Vincent felt warm. In that moment Vincent realized that he had feared the man gone forever. With the destruction of the original Cait Sith at the temple, he hadn’t truly known whether the man would return or not.</p><p>At some vague time in the future, the man had promised him a drink and Vincent now knew that he had held onto this more firmly than he had initially thought. He wanted to ask if the man had felt anything when Cait Sith had been swallowed up by the Temple of the Ancients or how the man had somehow prepared for Cait Sith’s demise with a second robot available moments after the destruction of the first. </p><p>He wondered if it had hurt the man to do away with Cait Sith. He wanted to know how Cait Sith was controlled at all.</p><p>Vincent didn’t ask any of these questions. </p><p>“How many of them do you have?” Vincent finally asked after the man’s laughter had died down.</p><p>“Cait Sith models?” The man made a small noise and continued without waiting for Vincent to confirm the question. </p><p>“At this point I think I’m on my third, give or take a prototype. I don’t have as much time to myself as I would like to work on upgrading him.”</p><p>Vincent could only hope that the unsaid part of his question, the part he didn’t ask — not “Who are you?” but “Are you still ‘you?’” — was answered here. </p><p>The man was still here. He had not gone with the Cait Sith that had been absorbed into the Black Materia. </p><p>“There’s something relaxing about this place,” the man said after a long pause. “It’s dangerous.”</p><p>Vincent hummed in agreement. The forest was beautiful and it thrummed with life. He could feel it resonate with the beasts inside of him despite the forest’s frozen appearance. </p><p>“If I were there,” the man started. He paused, and after clearing his throat loudly, continued. “I think I would be drawn into the forest. They say that it lures people in and puts them to sleep forever.”</p><p>Another pause. Vincent appreciated the silence between them. That too was part of the ritual — another comfort. </p><p>“What was it like all those years? Sleeping?” the man asked. </p><p>Vincent didn’t know how to answer this. He looked up at the stars, allowing the sounds of dirt and rocks and shovels to stretch between them. The man didn’t push. He only broke their silence to stifle a yawn that reverberated through Cait Sith, tinny and pitched a bit higher than the man’s speaking voice. </p><p>“Are you…” Vincent trailed off. He recalled the man’s initial drunken rambling. </p><p>
  <i>“I am trapped on the sixty-third floor of a very tall tower. One that’s rather of my own design. Maybe I could use a rescue myself.”</i>
</p><p>In the distance he could hear the sounds of people digging. The man was right. It did sound very different from the machinery of the city. The sounds were less noisy, but they carried more weight with every rasp of dirt against the shovel. </p><p>“Am I?” The man’s voice cracked. He sounded exhausted.</p><p>“Are you safe?” </p><p>The metallic ping of a shovel hitting a larger rock echoed between them. Vincent knew that the man could hear it played back for him in Midgar. </p><p>“No,” the man said after what felt like hours went by. “I’m not safe. Not where I am right now.”</p><p>Cait Sith whirred softly and Vincent straightened his posture, pulling himself out of the liminal space created by his conversations with the robot’s faceless creator. </p><p>The toy cat did something silly. It hopped off of the mog and swiftly approached Vincent, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder underneath his cowl. The touch was so brief, Vincent nearly thought he imagined it as he watched Cait Sith bound off back towards their tent. </p><p>Vincent stared into the forest for hours afterwards, flexing the slender metal fingers of his gold gauntlet one by one.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Icicle Inn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>“Vincent? I can take my leave if you would like.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Not so formal,” Vincent snapped. He wondered how many times the man had called his name. He wondered how many times the man overcorrected his speech for the sake of appearances. </i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their stay in Icicle Inn confirmed Vincent’s hypothesis without a doubt — he could no longer feel the cold whatsoever. </p><p>Even Cloud had to make a concerted effort to warm himself up as they crossed the snow fields north of the City of the Ancients, or whatever name Aerith had called it off-handedly while speaking to one of the Temple guards. The rest of the party had been thoroughly checked for frostbite by the inn owners, with both Yuffie and Barrett requiring further attention. </p><p>He overheard Tifa saying to Cloud that the bitter cold had helped in a way. It had kept her mind off of Aerith’s death. Vincent couldn’t feel it at all. </p><p>It would have been easier to accept had Aerith reacted. Or if there had been more bleeding.</p><p>Vincent’s only thoughts as Sephiroth had plunged his sword through the heart of Aerith had been that this was Lucrecia’s son. </p><p>She had suffered so much to bring this into the world. </p><p>Aerith had been the light of the party and without her he was worried at Cloud’s mental state, especially after Cloud had nearly killed Aerith himself. </p><p>Sometimes Vincent felt like he was trapped in that temple, wading through geometric mazes of his mind’s design, on a journey with people he still barely knew, save an odd man talking to him from the Shinra tower through a robot cat. </p><p>Vincent had wracked his brain for anyone at all he could have known during his tenure with the Turks who would have been able to design something like Cait Sith. </p><p>He had long since abandoned the pretense of uncovering the man’s identity for the sake of the party. Curiosity had taken over, and Vincent had not been curious about anything since he had climbed into a coffin inside the Nibelheim Mansion basement. </p><p>Veld would have certainly commissioned something like Cait Sith for the department if he could have, yet Vincent couldn’t think of any Shinra scientist who would have been able to execute it. Even accounting for technological advancements made over the past thirty years or so, no one came to mind. Shinra’s best scientist had been Gast Faremis, and he had been a biologist. </p><p>Rather than waiting for Cait Sith to wander off that night, Vincent left the party first. He could hear the fading laughter of Tifa and Yuffie as he stepped outside into the snow. </p><p>Icicle Inn was small, but well-lit due to what Vincent could only assume was necessity. A late-night slip in this weather could easily lead to death. </p><p>He circled around the town once before returning to the small house that Gast had shared with Ifalna. </p><p>It had seemed particularly cruel, especially to Cloud, Tifa, and Barrett, that they had stumbled upon videos of Aerith as a baby. Hojo had murdered Gast, and while Vincent hadn’t known Gast, it was more infuriating watching the scientist gunned down by Hojo over a small computer monitor than it had been watching Sephiroth cut through Aerith. </p><p>“Are you okay?” </p><p>Vincent looked up, still clenching his fists tightly. The metal claws shrieked against each other, the sound echoing through the mostly-empty house. Cait Sith was in front of him, having demounted from the giant mog. His mouth was open and his eyes were closed. There was a brown stain on the floor next to where the robot stood that Vincent suspected was Gast’s blood from years ago. </p><p>“Are you?” Vincent asked. He had half-expected the man to be completely drunk, mourning the loss of Aerith alone in his office, and told the man as much. </p><p>The man laughed. Vincent had come to chase that laugh any time he happened to speak with the man, and it brought him a small comfort even now.</p><p>“Is that what you think of me, Vincent? I must have been awful that first night.” </p><p>The slight lilt that the man used when he spoke his name told Vincent that the man was teasing him. It was a satisfying feeling that left him oddly nervous. He didn’t relish growing closer to anyone, especially a Shinra employee.</p><p>“Don’t you miss her?” </p><p>Vincent’s voice came out gravelly and far more accusatory than he had meant it to. </p><p>“Aerith was a very special young woman,” the man said after a few moments had passed. “I met her when she was very young and living in the Shinra building. At that time I didn’t understand—“</p><p>He abruptly stopped talking. Cait Sith still looked blankly ahead with his eyes squinted shut and paws hanging loosely at his sides as if he was human. </p><p>
  <i>I think I would be drawn into the forest. They say that it lures people in and puts them to sleep forever.</i>
</p><p>In the Sleeping Forest, the man had sounded like Vincent had felt angry and fresh off of the operating table, wondering why he was alive at all. Vincent wondered if this man had also been experimented on. He wondered what Shinra had done to him. </p><p>This man wasn’t safe. Having presumably thrown his lot in with their party for whatever reason, he wasn’t safe and this bothered Vincent. He didn’t want another bloodstain like the one in Gast’s apartment. He didn’t want another Lucrecia. If the man valued his safety, he wouldn’t even be speaking with Vincent.  </p><p>“Vincent? I can take my leave if you would like.”</p><p>“Not so formal,” Vincent snapped. He wondered how many times the man had called his name. He wondered how many times the man overcorrected his speech for the sake of appearances. </p><p>“Can you…” </p><p>Vincent hesitated, trailing off without finishing his thought. He didn’t know what exactly he wanted to ask.</p><p>“Vincent, I hope you don’t take offense in me asking you something that you asked me a little while ago,” the man said. </p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>His mouth was dry and his back hurt. It hurt every day, from his lower back all the way up to his neck — the pain flared worse on days he transformed in battle. He could feel his skin knitting itself back together and sometimes he wished it would stop and just let him rot. If he had his way, he would never transform again but sometimes it was too much. Too much damage and too much pain and too much rage. </p><p>He suddenly wished that the man was there, in Gast’s tiny apartment somehow, so Vincent could punch him or hug him or look into his eyes and see him. </p><p>Vincent felt a sudden weight on his leg. Cait Sith tugged at him with surprising strength, and Vincent allowed himself to sink onto the floor. He rested his back against the computer where Gast’s videos were kept. </p><p>Wordlessly, Cait Sith climbed into his arms and curled up like a cat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A sketch of young Aerith's exchange with new executive Reeve can be found here: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006889">The Night Manager</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Highwind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>“Where do you go when you look like that?” the man asked, interrupting Vincent’s thoughts. After Vincent didn’t say anything for another few minutes, the man continued.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I can see you thinking.” The robot cat tapped his head with a paw for emphasis.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Vincent remained silent. He didn’t really know how to answer the question.</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Highwind’s conference room was too bright, tinged a garish green colour by the flourescent lights. </p><p>From what Vincent could remember of the initial Shinra Electric Power Company headquarters in Junon, before they had broken ground in Midgar, the decor reflected the President’s taste — just ostentatious enough to be obnoxious, but not as tacky as it could be. </p><p>He brushed his right hand against one of the potted plants in a corner of the room, allowing his fingertips to drag across the waxy leaves. </p><p>They were fake. </p><p>Cait Sith bounced into the room on his mog. Following closely behind Vincent, he closed the heavy double doors with a firm push. </p><p>“This reminds me of our conference room above my office,” the man said. They had long since skipped the formality of waiting for Cait Sith to go still.</p><p>“It’s more well-lit,” the man continued. “Actually, it reminds me a bit of the headmaster’s office at the Junon Academy. I suppose the President designed that one as well, although it didn’t belong to him per se.”</p><p>The man hummed as if he was about to move on to another thought, but went quiet instead. Cait Sith was now still, glass eyes staring vacantly above Vincent’s left shoulder at the patterned wallpaper.  </p><p>“Who are you?” Vincent asked, reaching down again to brush his fingers against the plastic plant leaves. </p><p>It was a return to whatever normal they had previously established and he needed it after how their last conversation had ended and, more recently, their narrow escape from Junon and a public execution. </p><p>“An engineer,” the man replied. “Certainly not an interior decorator.” He added this with a short laugh, amused by his own joke. Cait Sith gave a robotic shrug and tilted his head to the side for emphasis. </p><p>Vincent couldn’t help but smile. Had he wanted to, Vincent simply could have looked the man up on one of the Highwind’s computer terminals. They were all still linked to the Shinra network. The man had given him more than enough information at this point — some sort of higher-up engineer, office on the sixty-third floor, student at the Shinra Academy in Junon — to look him up. Vincent could already draw a few conclusions as to the general role that the man held within the company; he was a former Turk, after all, and the man had surprisingly been straightforward and honest where Vincent had expected subterfuge and lies.  </p><p>He found that he didn’t much care who the man was at this point and searching anything on the Highwind could easily draw the attention of the Shinra company. The man had not been a Shinra spy for a short while now, and could easily be put in more danger. </p><p>
  <i>“I’m not safe. Not where I am right now.”</i>
</p><p>Vincent shuddered.</p><p>He knew what happened to those who dared stand up against Shinra. Even with one of the President’s sons now in charge and the world on the brink of collapse, he didn’t think their attitude towards internal dissent had changed much. </p><p>He didn’t want the man to end up on Hojo’s operating table. </p><p>“Vincent?”</p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“I have to go to a meeting now.”</p><p>Vincent nodded. They were having this talk midday in Midgar time, which was a first for them. He wondered if the man had been as eager to talk to Vincent as Vincent had been to talk to him after everything they had just been through.</p><p>Cait Sith did not move, holding his stare above Vincent’s shoulder. The man cleared his throat loudly. </p><p>“Take care of yourself, Vincent,” he finally said softy, seconds before Cait Sith whirred to life and started chattering at Vincent with his rough brogue.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Who are you?”<p>“A pilot.”</p><p>“You’re lying,” Vincent said. His cowl hopefully hiding the fact that this accusation also came with an amused snort. </p><p>Cait Sith had hopped off of his mog and was seated at the head of the conference room table presiding over their meeting of two. </p><p>“How did you know?” the man asked. Vincent could hear the smile in his voice and a hint of an accent. </p><p>It was late at night and Vincent wondered if the man was holed up in his office drinking again and hiding from his administrative assistant. </p><p>“You would have said something earlier.”</p><p>“Would I?”</p><p>Vincent didn’t respond and the two lapsed into a comfortable silence. </p><p>“I did vote against the space program,” the man admitted. “And I don’t regret the decision.”</p><p>“Why did you do it?”</p><p>The man sighed. “I was hoping that some of the money could be directed into Midgar’s upkeep. The city is woefully underfunded.”</p><p>Vincent nodded. </p><p>“Although it is a bit odd having to come face to face with the man whose life I ruined. Well, figuratively face-to-face.” The man laughed at himself. His voice was somehow both bright and sad.</p><p>“You mean Cid?”</p><p>“Yes,” the man said, over-enunciating the “s” at the end of the word. </p><p>“Why do you do that?” Vincent asked. </p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“Try to hide your accent even when you drink,” Vincent said bitterly. “You speak so formally all the time but it’s not—“</p><p>
  <i>It’s not you.</i>
</p><p>Vincent wanted to say this, but it felt like a greater admission than bothering a friend about their accent. It would have felt like he was laying some sort of claim to the man, as if he truly knew him. He didn’t really know why it made him so angry.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have to do that,” Vincent finished lamely. “At least not here.” </p><p>The man hummed and the two sat in silence, listening to the mechanical creaks and groans of the airship.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Who are you?”<p>“The designer of Shinra Mako Reactor Prototype Gamma-II,” the man said. “Also known as the default mako reactor type, although I have improved on the design since.”</p><p>Vincent was momentarily speechless. This was said in such an uncharacteristically playful tone that immediately reminded him of the man’s pilot joke.</p><p>Yet, this particular fact fit everything else that the man had said about himself — an engineer, obviously both talented and creative if Cait Sith was anything to go by, who had somehow made it up the Shinra executive chain while maintaining some semblance of self. </p><p>“Where do you go when you look like that?” the man asked, interrupting Vincent’s thoughts. After Vincent didn’t say anything for another few minutes, the man continued. </p><p>“I can see you thinking.” The robot cat tapped his head with a paw for emphasis. </p><p>Vincent remained silent. He didn’t really know how to answer the question. </p><p>Sighing, the man returned Cait Sith to his default position.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>“Who are you?”<p>“Reeve Tuesti, Director of Shinra’s Urban Development and Planning Division.”</p><p>Whatever Vincent had expected to hear — a fact about the man or another joke about being trapped in the Shinra building as the company continued to crumble around him — it hadn’t been that. </p><p>
  <i>Reeve Tuesti.</i>
</p><p>It was a name that Vincent had only heard in passing, and not nearly as often as the other members of the Shinra executive board — all of whom AVALANCHE had crossed paths with at some point or another. They had even met Palmer, whose division was essentially a title with no funding, but never Reeve Tuesti. </p><p>“Why are you telling me this Director Tuesti?” Vincent said. It came out like an accusation. The director must have no sense of self-preservation to tell anyone this. They were still on a Shinra ship. </p><p>“You won’t tell anyone, Vincent.”</p><p>Director Tuesti said this so matter-of-factly that Vincent audibly scoffed. He wasn’t used to such unearned trust, especially from someone he couldn’t even physically see. </p><p><i>”You won’t tell anyone, will you Vincent?”</i> sounded in his head.</p><p>It was Veld’s voice this time, persuasive yet direct, convincing him to do all manner of things. Would he have known Director Tuesti as a Turk? Unlikely. Would the director have wanted to know him as a Turk? Also unlikely although he wasn't particularly sure of why the director wanted to know him now.</p><p>“Vincent. Come back,” the director said quietly. He sounded worried about Vincent when really he should be worried about himself </p><p>“You’re putting yourself in danger, Director Tuesti,” Vincent said. </p><p>Cait Sith shrugged and Vincent could hear the warmth in Director Tuesti’s laugh as it echoed tinnily out of the toy cat’s open mouth. </p><p>“Please, call me Reeve.”</p>
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